A Practical Romance
by Citrine
Summary: A short fic for Budgie: Merry recoups from a relapse into Shadow, Estella has a secret, and they squabble, kiss and makeup over tea.


**A Practical Romance**

_For Budgie, at long, long (long) last._

It had been a near thing, and a long, slow climb back to health for Merry. On the first anniversary of his wounding by the Witch-King he had fallen ill, and for days on end he had lain like a waxwork figure in his bed in his old room at Brandy Hall, held in the world only by the sound of a loved cousin's voice, or the touch of a parent's hand. Now he was well enough to sit outside with Pippin on a bench in the sun. He still felt weak as a kitten, and though he made light of it he was bitterly frustrated that his right hand was still so clumsy and cold. Deep down in his heart was the fear that it would always remain so, but he laughed and talked with Pippin just like always, until all the worry-lines in his cousin's face had gone away. After a while they both fell silent, and Merry put his head back and closed his eyes.

Pippin pulled out Merry's pillow, plumped it up and tucked it in behind his shoulders, then tugged the blanket up to Merry's chin. "Well, I think I shall go in for a bit, perhaps I'll get some toast and tea and bring it out.Will you be all right here for a while?"

"Yes, mother," Merry said, and stuck out his tongue.

Pippin patted his head, and Merry pretended to slap his hand away. "Hi, now! Don't get so saucy, my lad, or I'll have nursie give you a nasty tonic, and no jam for your toast, either."

Merry snored, loudly and pointedly, and Pippin chuckled. "Such behaviour. Why on earth do I put up with you?"

Merry grinned and opened one eye. "Because I'm witty and handsome and brave, and full up to my very eyeballs with charm."

"And humble," Pippin laughed. It did his heart good to see Merry more like his old self again. "Don't forget that. Would you mind a visitor or two while I'm gone?"

"Not at all," Merry said. "Send them along. Though I can't promise I'll be very good company."

> > > > > > > > > > > > > >

Pippin went away, and Merry fell into a shallow sleep. He was very warm and comfortable, and the sun felt good. Somewhere a door opened and closed, and he heard footsteps approach his resting place. _That will be Pippin with tea, _Merry thought, just as a shadow fell over him, and warm, strong fingers squeezed his cool right hand.

"Merry?"

"Back already, Pip?" Merry said, smiling, and opened his eyes. Estella Bolger was standing there with a small tray balanced on one arm. She looked rather dusty and was ever so slightly breathless, as if she had come on the run, and she was wearing an apron and an enormous straw bonnet, garishly and lavishly decorated with clumps of wax cherries. Merry sat up with a start, as surprised by her sudden appearance as he was by her eyesore of a hat. What on earth was _that_ about, anyway? Since his first sight of her after the Scouring she was never without some sort of bonnet or kerchief on her head, and she had always been the type of lass that loved the wind in her hair.

"Not quite," Estella said. "He's quite a bit taller and rather Tookish, and I'm quite a bit shorter and rounder and Bolgerish. Do lift your legs, Merry dear. This tray is heavy."

"Oh, sorry." Merry blushed a little and moved his legs so she could put the tray on his footstool. "When did you arrive?"

Estella's hands were busy, laying out napkins and spoons, saucers and cups, but Merry thought he saw them shake a little. "Just now. I came as quickly as I could, when I heard...when I heard you were ill. I would have been here sooner but I had to drive myself and the roads were bad. Tea?"

"Yes, please." His heart was tripping a bit, and he could still feel the press of her fingers, and the warmth of her touch had made his hand tingle. They had been dear to each other once, though it had always been a strangely practical sort of romance, limited to clasped hands, and once a kiss under the grape arbour at Budge Hall, and he had often wondered if she cared for him the way he cared for her. Her nearness brought back all the feelings for her that the cares of the long year past had pushed aside, and he felt an ache now under his heart greater than the hurt in his arm. He sat back and watched her cut a tea-cake in little squares, easier for his right hand to grasp, the careful way she filled his cup and sweetened it, then gently folded his fingers around it and held them there until his hand had warmed enough to raise it to his lips. _And if we should go on from here, if I never really get better and if we should wed, every day of our life together she will do this, _Merry thought. _If the Shadow doesn't decide to swallow me up altogether someday, that is. She'll be nursing me back to health every anniversary of my wounding, perpetual nursemaid to a damaged hobbit who can't even fill his own teacup. It's not fair, is it? _He felt a lump in his throat as he studied the round curve of her cheek, half-concealed by the brim of her dreadful bonnet, the dark curls that peeped out. Worry for him had left its mark on her in the faint lines of tension around her mouth, and he was reminded of another face from not so long ago, fairer and more noble perhaps, but no less beloved: Eowyn, Lady of Rohan. _Would you make your love a cage?_

"Did I add enough honey?" Estella said.

Merry nodded and took a quick sip of his tea, but it might as well have been rainwater for all he could taste of it. He quickly set his cup down and it clacked against the saucer. "Stella-"

"A lovely garden, this," Estella said. Merry caught a glimpse of the dear, wicked old Stella as her cheeks dimpled. "I suppose I shall have to bring my old sweetheart here sometime or other. Big, tall fellow with a fondness for Tooks, snores a bit and smells like a pony, likes to wave a sword around and drive out Ruffians. Perhaps you know him?"

"Stella," Merry said. "Stella, listen. We can't go on pretending like this."

"Pretending what?" Her face had gone very still, and he saw her hands fidget with her cup.

Merry knew he must be very gentle and let her down easy. He would have to be firm and practical, even though it was very hard. There was a sharp pain in his side as if he'd been run through with a sword, and he knew he must speak his piece quickly. "I have been very ill, you know that. I think we both know that my hand and arm will never be what they were before I left the Shire. It's likely I will have spells every year at about this time, where I am sick, and...not myself. And even if I become quite well, I am still changed. I have seen things out in the wide world, Stella, beauties and wonders, and terrible things that haunt my dreams. But what I want you to know is, no matter where I was or what I was doing; I have always kept the thought of you deep down in my heart. It has always been you there, Stella; it will always be you, first, last, and ever. What I'm trying to say is, I've loved you very much for a long time." Merry took a deep, ragged breath, filled with misery. "And that's why I think it's only fair that I let you go."

There was a long silence. Estella's head bowed, her face entirely hidden by the edge of her bonnet, her hands curled into fists on her knees. They were pressed very close beside each other on the bench. He could feel her tremble, and it took a moment or two before he realized it was not the tremble of approaching grief, but rather the ominous tremble of a mountain of fire on the verge of eruption.

Slowly she straightened and turned to him. "Well, I'm not letting you go, Meriadoc Brandybuck, and if you think I'm going to run off a-wailing and throw myself in the Brandywine to make things easier for you, you've got another think coming! Professing your undying love with one breath and then dismissing me with the next! The very nerve! As if I am so chuckle-headed and shallow that a bad arm and evil dreams could frighten me off-I don't love your wretched arm, I love _you_. Do you think _we _were all dancing round Maypoles while you were gone off with Frodo? _Well_?"

Merry gaped. Had she actually said what he thought she had said, or was that just some lovesick voice in his head? "Stella, I-"

Estella's cheeks were flushed and her black eyes were snapping like old Gandalf's best Goblin-crackers."Don't you _Stella_, me, Merry Brandybuck! Do you think you're the only one to have lost and suffered? Look what happened to Freddy, and poor Folco! Look at _me_!" She yanked on the ribbons of her bonnet and tore it from her head, and a sudden breeze lifted it from her hand and hurled it end-over-end across the garden. Merry's mouth fell open as he saw what the bonnet had hidden: Her hair was cropped close as a lad's, barely touching her shoulders, damp with sweat in some places, or standing up in untidy whirls and clumps.

"Oh, Stella," Merry said. Estella's long, dark hair had been her pride. "Why?"

"Well, it wasn't safe to be a lass with Ruffians about, was it?" Estella said shortly, dismissing the terror and trials of all the past months with a toss of her head. "So I thought it best that I cut it all off and put on some of Freddie's old things. I'm not the only lass who did so. I know it doesn't have a patch on what other poor hobbits have suffered, and it's not brave like leading a band of rebels, or running off into the wild and riding a horse, and felling Witch-kings with an Elf-sword, but this was my sacrifice, Merry." Tears came to her eyes and her breath hitched. "It was a small thing to give up, but it was mine, and I'll be plagued if I'll give you up, too."

"Dear Stella." Merry put his chin on her shoulder. The prickly wisps at her nape tickled his nose, and her hair smelled like some spicy herb she must have used in an attempt to make the thick, short curls lie flat. "I'm so sorry."

She wiped a hand roughly across her eyes. "You should be."

"I'm an ass," Merry said.

"Yes, you are," Estella said.

Merry had to laugh a little. "You needn't agree with me so much."

Estella laughed, too, and blotted her face on her sleeve. "Well, we both are. After all, my hair's not nearly so short as it was, and it's not as though it won't grow back." She lifted a hesitant hand to touch her hair, and her mouth trembled a little. "And I suppose it's not so dreadfully ugly."

"It's not," Merry said, overwhelmed with sorrow and tenderness. "It's still beautiful, Stella. You're beautiful."

He got his good arm around her and pulled her close, and Estella obliged him by turning a bit on the bench and pressing his clumsy arm against her side. Merry closed his eyes and kissed her. She went very still, and he could feel her breath, warm on his cheek, and the taste of sweet tea and cake was on her lips. Merry pulled away, but kept his eyes closed. "Stella."

"Yes?" Estella said at last, sounding a bit faint.

"Do you really love me?"

"Oh. Oh yes."

"Stella?"

"Yes?"

"You've gone very quiet. Are you all right?"

"Open your eyes and find out."

"I don't dare," Merry said. "I'm afraid you're going to clout me with the tea tray."

"Goose." He could feel her shaking again, and this time it was because she was laughing.

Merry opened his eyes. Estella was mere inches away, smiling, her round face pink and sweet as a summer apple. Dearest, best-beloved Stell! What a fool he had been to ever think he could let her go, because he never could, he never would, ever, even if both of his arms fell off entirely. "Have we decided something here?"

"I think we have," Estella said. "But it may be a long while yet before we can wed-"

"-And we shall probably spend more time apart than together."

"There is still so much to do, and to put right. I have to see that Mother and Father have a roof over their heads, and Freddy's not well-"

"-And my cousin Frodo hasn't been himself, either. I'm sure that Frodo will need Pippin and me to help him with the Party arrangements this year, if there is one. I'm...I'm a bit worried about Frodo actually. I feel I should keep an eye on him. And Pippin needs me, too, whether he thinks so or not. He pretends that he is just the same as he ever was and that I'm the only one who might need looking after, but sometimes-"

"-Sometimes Freddy cries out in his sleep. He will need me a great deal."

They both drew breath at the same time, and then laughed to see that each of them wore a similar expression of worried thoughtfulness. "Oh dear, your poor face!" Estella said, then clapped a hand to her cheek in mock horror. "Great Gerontius, _my_ face! Am I frowning terribly?"

"Horribly," Merry said. "Wrinkled as an old sack."

"Beast." Estella doubled up her small fist and thumped him on the shoulder, but the blow was soft as a feather, and as soon as it had fallen she opened her hand. She sighed. "What a long, long road we have yet to travel, Merry dear."

"Just so long as you are waiting at the end of it," Merry said. "Would you mind if I kissed you again?" His mother had always said to be a gentlehobbit in social situations with lasses.

"Please, do," Estella said, and bother what _her_ mother had said.

So he did.

The End


End file.
